My Demons And My Muse
by Randomestfandoms
Summary: Thanks to her parents' divorce, Harper Harrison is moving to Riverdale when she's in a car accident, finding herself in a hospital instead of onstage. She doesn't think that she could ever be on Broadway now, not after the accident left her with severe hearing loss, but the boy across the hall, recovering from a gunshot, is determined to prove otherwise.


Disclaimer- hopefully this goes without saying, but I don't own anything except for my ideas

Chapter title is from Somewhere from West Side Story

(For anyone interested, Harper's face claim is Dove Cameron)

In the midst of her parents' messy divorce, Harper Harrison and her mom go to live with her mom's cousin, Fred Andrews. She was really excited, her Uncle Fred was the coolest person ever, and apparently her cousin Archie is now as into music as she is. But after an accident during the drive to Riverdale lands her in the hospital instead of onstage, Harper has to reconsider everything she's ever known. She doesn't think that she could ever be on Broadway now, not after the accident left her with severe hearing loss, but the boy across the hall, recovering from a gunshot, is determined to prove otherwise.

**My Demons And My Muse**

(Somewhere) A Place For Us

"_Mozart was crazy, flat fucking crazy, bat-shit I hear."_

That was the first thing that Fangs Fogarty heard when he woke up in the hospital; a clear, feminine voice singing from another room—it sounded like whoever it was might not have even known that anyone could hear her.

"Mr. Fogarty, you're awake," his doctor said, walking into the room.

"I know?"

"You've only woken up a few times this week."

"It's been a week?" he asked, shocked.

"That's what I said."

"My friends, the protests? Is everyone okay? Has anyone come to visit?"

"You've had visitors stopping by every day. You'll be allowed out of your room and in communal areas today, and depending on how that goes, you may be allowed visitors tomorrow."

He nodded eagerly—all he wanted was to see Sweet Pea and find out what had happened since he'd been shot. Or hell, just to find out who'd shot him. And if that meant one day of being bored around the rest of the inpatients—old people recovering from hip surgeries, probably—then he'd do it.

"One of our nurses will be in momentarily to record your vitals, and then someone will show you around. If you need anything, press the call button on your bed."

He nodded again, watching as the doctor left. As promised, a nurse showed up barely a minute later, checking the various machines that he was connected to and writing things down on a clipboard.

"Good evening, Mr. Fogarty," she said.

"Evening?" Fangs asked, shocked.

"It's currently eight o'clock, Thursday," she informed him. "Now, before your tour, a mister… Sweet Pea? Dropped off some pants for you, which you might want to wear. He left a shirt as well, we can disconnect your IV for a minute or two if you'd like to put it on."

"Please," he said, already noticing just how drafty the hospital gown was.

The nurse nodded, helping him stand so that he could pull on underwear and sweat pants—his favourite sweat pants, the ones Sweet Pea knew that he liked to wear when he was sick. Next, she unhooked his IV and helped him slide the gown off, helping him into a short-sleeved flannel.

"You won't want to put on any overhead shirts until your stitches are dissolved," she warned, as he buttoned the shirt.

Once it was on, she reconnected the IV, warning him that he would need to bring the pole with him anywhere he went.

"I have to go, but I'll send someone in to show you around," she said as she left.

He sat back on the bed, raising it until he could lean back while still being seated, and just as he was about to look for his phone, a petite blonde on crutches knocked on the door frame.

"Door's open," he said, and she smiled.

"It's called manners," she chided.

It was the same voice as earlier, he realized. Her words were a bit more slurred than they'd been when she was singing, but he was sure of it.

"You're the one who was singing, right?" he asked.

"You heard that?" she asked, the red in her cheeks making her eyes look even more green.

"I did, you—" he was about to tell her how lovely she sounded but she cut him off.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I lost most of my hearing recently and well… even with my hearing aids, I can't always tell how loud I'm being.

"I didn't mind," he said, "you sounded great."

"Sure," she scoffed, "for a deaf girl, maybe. Anyways. I'm Harper, I live across from you, and I've been here for almost three months now, so I'm sort of the expert."

"Fangs. Fogarty. I've been here for a week now, apparently, but this is the first time I've been awake long enough to actually talk to anyone."

"You were shot, right?"

"How did you know? Did someone tell—"

"No one here told me. Doctor patient confidentiality and all that. No, I was in the common room five days ago now, when this really tall guy—Pea, or something—showed up, asking to see his friend Fangs who was shot. I know everyone in this ward, you're the only Fangs we have."

"That sounds like Sweet Pea alright… So, you're the expert, huh? Can I get a rundown?"

"It's pretty boring, honestly. Everyone else is older, most of them are here because they can't take care of themselves while recovering. I totally wish you hadn't been shot, but I'm so glad to have actual company now. Unless you just want to play scrabble and bridge in which case, I'll be very disappointed."

"Oh god no, definitely not," he laughed, standing up carefully.

"Need a hand?" she asked, moving towards him.

"Your hands look pretty full," he said, gesturing to the crutches.

"Oh, fuck that… Seriously though, you good? If not, I'm happy to sit here and tell you all about the drama of the Bob and Theresa and Charlie love triangle."

"Is that a thing?"

"Oh yeah, it's riveting."

"Okay so you're definitely fucking with me—" Harper giggled— "but I'm willing to let that slide for a tour?"

"Deal," she agreed, hobbling out of his room and into the hallway.

"So, this is my room right here," she started, nodding towards the door opposite his, "I've been here for… a while… so it's more decorated than the others… If you're ever in the mood for a speaker or fairy lights, or the keyboard everyone pretends not to know that I have, just stop on in."

"So… what happened to you?" he asked, "I mean, if I'm allowed to ask that?"

"You're allowed to ask, I'm not obliged to answer—" Fangs was about to apologize, but Harper continued, "but I'll tell you. It's my sob story and whatnot. My mom and I were moving here, to stay with my uncle because my parents are in the middle of a really fucked up divorce, but we were in a car accident on the way. Head on collision with my door, I'm lucky to be alive. Broke my right leg, some damage to my spine, and lots of head trauma. I was in a coma for two weeks, and when I woke up, they found that I'd lost about eighty percent of my hearing and most of my ability to walk. In the past couple of months that's sorted itself out, but I've still got another couple of months with the crutches before I can actually walk again."

"I'm—"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry," she snapped, "don't pity me. I'm alive, I'll be able to walk again eventually, and I can wear hearing aids. Anyways, this is the common room. There is a TV, but no one other than me ever really uses it—I like to watch game shows, TLC, and Lip Sync Battles. There are board games and cards and sometimes you can eat in here. Friends and family are also allowed, so generally it's recommended that you wear actual clothes if you're going to be in here."

As she spoke, Harper gestured for Fangs to join her in sitting on the blue couch—much more comfortable than he would have expected from a hospital. She twisted herself awkwardly, trying to lean her crutches against the side of the couch, but Fangs stood again quickly to move them for her before sitting back down.

"Noted. So… I don't really know how you're supposed to get to know people in hospitals, sorry…"

"It's fine," she smiled. "Like I said, my name is Harper, I turn sixteen next month, I wanted to be on Broadway, and my mom is actually from Riverdale but left as a teenager."

"I'm Fangs, my real name is Edward, I have no idea what I want to do with my life, and… I'm a Serpent."

"A what?"

"You… don't know what a Serpent is?"

"Dude, I've been to Riverdale all of like five times, and the sixth time landed me here. I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

"Serpents are… we're a gang…"

"Like an actual legit leather jacket cool car gang?"

"Motorcycles, actually."

"Are you for real? I thought those only existed in like… _Grease_ and The Outsiders… I mean I know Uncle Fred teases mom about how she dated a gang member, but I didn't think they meant an actual real life gang."

"Well, we're an 'actual real-life gang'," he said, and Harper laughed.

"That sounds really cool! Can I ask about it or is this a Fight Club situation?"

It was his turn to laugh, "you can ask," he said, "but I won't confess to any hypothetical crimes."

"Do you guys deal drugs? Have you ever killed anyone? Is there some sort of initiation? What is it? Are there gang wars like the Jets and the Sharks?"

"The Jets and the Sharks?"

"_West Side Story_?" he stared at her blankly. "Are you telling me you've never seen _West Side Story_?"

"I've meant to watch it, but I've never had the chance. I'm always busy with the 'actual real-life gang' stuff."

"We have to watch it—I mean… if you want to?"

"Sure," he said, shrugging. "Before or after I answer your questions?"

"After, I'm too curious to wait through an entire movie," she giggled, and Fangs couldn't help but smile and the bell-like sound.

As they spoke, Harper had been turning more and more to face him, until she was looking right at him, and Fangs was surprised to realize that he had done the same.

"Alright so… hypothetically some Serpents may or may not deal drugs. I've never killed anyone myself. There are initiations but they're different for boys and girls, and there are gang wars. We've had an ongoing one with the Ghoulies for years, but last I heard many of them were still in jail, and we've got some turf war shit with the Northside—that's how I got shot."

"What?" Harper interrupted, jaw dropping.

"I was arrested for a murder that I didn't commit, and a whole lot of people didn't like that I was leaving. There were protestors outside of the station, one of them shot me."

"Sorry but what the fuck? That's complete bullshit!"

Fangs couldn't help a startled laugh when the small girl swore, even though he agreed with her.

"It is, it was. Riverdale has always been narrow-minded but in the past year it's gotten so much worse."

"So I've heard. My uncle got shot about… I don't know, seven months ago now? Mom wanted to come and visit but, well, it doesn't really matter."

"Seven months ago? Is your uncle Fred Andrews?"

"He is! Do you know him?"

"I know of him. My friend Jughead lived with him for a while, and I've met his son a few times."

"You know Archie?"

"I do. You probably don't want to hear what I have to say about him though."

"I heard he went a bit off the rails for a while? Uncle Fred was going to have him stay with us but then… the divorce crap happened."

"He did wave a gun in my best friend's face once. And start the actual turf war beatdown, and two vigilante groups. But he tried to get his football team under control when I was arrested so, I guess he gets some credit there."

"Jesus _fuck_, what was he thinking? That's… no wonder Uncle Fred wanted him out of here. I'll deal with him when I get out of here," she promised. "But anyways… _West Side Story_? I mean, only if you want, of course. It's totally cool if you changed your mind or aren't that interested or—"

"I still want to," he assured her, placing a calming hand on her knee.

"Oh, yay!"

She bounced in her seat, and Fangs couldn't help but chuckle. She grabbed the remote from the table in front of them, quickly turning it on.

"It's actually already in the DVD player," she admitted, "I watched it yesterday."

"You don't mind watching it again?"

"Never! It's one of my favourites. And, well, I don't have DVDs of most of my favourites, and I have no idea how to access my USB from the TV to watch others…"

"I know how to do that. Maybe tomorrow we could watch one of those?" he offered, and was rewarded with a blinding smile.

"For real?" She asked, "you're not just saying that?"

"Not at all! I actually really like theatre, I got to be the assistant director for the school's musical this year. Next year I'm hoping to stage manage, or act. I just haven't seen much…"

"I have all sorts of things," Harper told him, "like, seriously, probably about four dozen bootlegs? We should totes get you all educated before you're out! We've got to watch _Next to Normal_, of course, _Into the Woods_, _Mamma Mia_—have you seen _Mamma Mia_?_"_

"Let's start with one, and then you can make a schedule, sound good? And I've heard songs from _Mamma Mia_, but I've never seen the movie or the musical."

"Not even the movie? Oh my _god_, that's tragic! Okay so we should watch the movie, then the musical, then the sequel?"

"Whatever you say," he agreed, "but _West Side Story_ first?"

"Oh," she blushed, "right. Let's do that."

As the movie began, Fangs let his gaze drift off of Harper and focused on the screen, but Harper was more interested in watching his reactions—she'd long since memorized the movie anyways.

She had to admit that Fangs had some frankly adorable reactions—he had a very expressive face and Harper could tell exactly how he felt about everything. He seemed to be enjoying himself, for which she was relieved; she knew that most of her old friends had only ever humoured her love of theatre, and had never bothered to pretend otherwise, so it was a very welcome change to have someone who was genuinely enthusiastic about it.

Even as she tried to focus on the boy's reactions, Harper couldn't help but get caught up in the movie and was soon humming along without realizing it. Fangs, who had noticed, decided not to say anything—she seemed happy and he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable in any way.

"You know," he said, halfway through _When You're A Jet_, "aside from the spontaneous musical numbers, this really does sound like the Serpents."

"Really?" She asked, perking up in her seat.

"Oh yeah. I mean, all the stuff about brotherhood, when you're in you're in, that sort of stuff. The Serpents are the same way."

"Bit of a boys' club?"

"A bit. I mean there are girls—one of my best friends Toni, for example—but she'd also be the first to call it a boys' club. Our King though, he's actually really awesome and has been trying to make things better, but it's a work in progress, you know?"

"I know—I mean I don't know, actually," she laughed, "like, at all. But I think I get what you're saying? He's trying but some people—probably especially the older members—don't like the progressive ideals?"

"You do know," he told her, "I love FP, but most of the adults aren't nearly as cool."

"FP?" She asked.

"Forsythe Pendleton," he explained.

"Well that's an unfortunate name… but no, it's not that… I just, I could swear that I've heard that name before?"

"Well he and Fred Andrews are known to have been best friends for most of their lives, so maybe he's mentioned him before?"

"That could be," she said, unconvinced. "I'll think on it, I guess. You need to pay attention though!"

He chuckled and nodded, turning back to the screen while Harper tried to remember why she knew the name FP—it wasn't just from her Uncle's stories, she was sure of that much, but she couldn't piece it together.

She was so lost in thought that she'd completely missed Tony's arrival, but looked up as she heard the familiar opening to _Something's Coming_.

As much as she wanted to gush, to talk about how much she loved it, she wanted Fangs to be listening to the song not to her, so she bit her lip.

Fangs was once again unsure as to whether or not Harper actually knew that she was humming, but he didn't want to interrupt her, or the song, so he held his tongue and let himself enjoy them both.

They sat in relative silence—relative meaning that the movie was still playing, and Harper was still humming, but neither of them were actually speaking—for quite a while. In fact, neither said anything until _Somewhere_ began.

"I know this one!" Fangs told her, "I love it."

"It's beautiful," Harper agreed, "hands down one of the most amazing love songs ever."

"You think?"

"Oh god yeah. I mean just listen—it's so full of hope? And promises? And the idea that just because things aren't okay now doesn't mean they'll never be okay?"

"You really love it, don't you?"

"So much," she said, smiling softly. "If I ever get married, I think I might want it for my first dance, you know?"

He paused for a moment, considering her, considering the song. "Yeah, I think I get that."

Harper smiled at him, bright and unguarded, before turning back to the screen, continuing to hum along.

Fangs watched raptly as the movie continued, eyes practically glued to the screen. But when _Gee, Officer Krupke_, began, he couldn't help but laugh.

"I'll have to show this to Sweet Pea," he said, "he'd get a kick out of it."

"Sweet Pea?" Harper asked.

"My best friend. It's a nickname, but I think he'd kill me himself if I told you his real name."

Harper shrugged, unbothered, "yeah, that's fair. Is he a Serpent too?"

"He is—he's the one who got me in, actually."

"Full disclosure, I have no idea what impression to get of a gang member who goes by Sweet Pea, but I'm glad that he's a good friend. That you have a best friend…" She trailed off, eyes drifting downwards.

"Do you?" he asked.

"Do I?"

"Have a best friend?"

"Oh… Not really… the closest I have is Archie, and he's my cousin… and I only see him once or twice a year. Back in New York I was so focused on theatre that I didn't really have time to just hang out, and I guess a lot of people thought that made me a bitch. I was friends with all of my casts, but… No best friend."

"I'm sorry," he said, turning to face her.

"It's fine," she shrugged, blinking back tears. "I had my priorities and I wouldn't change that."

"Sure, but everyone deserves a best friend," he insisted, "and it's not fair that people called you a bitch for focusing on your dreams."

"I was… intense," she chuckled, "the accident chilled me out some, since I don't have something to work towards anymore, but back then I was something else."

"Hey," he interrupted, "don't be so hard on yourself. Even if you were, you still deserve to have friends."

Harper shrugged again, smiling ruefully. "If I couldn't pull that off with people I'd known for most of my life, I doubt I'll be able to as the new girl."

"Tell you what—the first weekend when we're both out of here, I'll get my friends together and introduce you?"

"It's a date," she agreed. "I mean, not a date but you know, a plan?"

"I know what you mean," he assured her.

"Oh, good. But yeah, that would be nice. But movie first?" she asked, and Fangs nodded.

"Movie first."

He waited until she was facing the screen again to turn away, realizing that he'd missed most of the song.

Not wanting to miss anything more, he sat in silence for the rest of the movie, until the finale.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked suddenly. "I knew they were going to die, but was the reprise necessary?"

"Heartbreaking reprises are Sondheim's trademark," Harper explained, trying to subtly wipe away her tears, "he does it all the time. It's kind of a dick move to play with my feelings like that but it's also… so well done, like Jesus Christ it's beautiful but my heart can't handle this."

"Understandable," Fangs agreed, "you really love this stuff, don't you?"

"Musical theatre is my first love," she said. "My mom is a journalist but she was always very involved in community theatre stuff so I've been surrounded by it for most of my life, and when I was a little kid sometimes they'd have me onstage—usually in shows where they need a young child, even though typically there weren't any lines—and the older I got the more I wanted to be involved. It's… it's all I've ever wanted in my life, you know?" She stopped for a moment before rushing to apologize. "Aw crap, I'm totally doing that rambling making it all about me thing, aren't I? I'm sorry, I'm working on it, I swear…"

"It's fine," he said quickly, "honestly, it's fine. I like hearing about it. Besides, I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."

Harper looked surprised for a moment, tilting her head like he'd suddenly started speaking a foreign language, before finally she smiled.

"I guess not," she said eventually, interrupting herself with a loud yawn.

"Sorry," she mumbled, "I had physio earlier and it kills me…"

"It's fine," he said again, "I'm starting to get tired too. How about getting some sleep and then meeting in the morning to watch more?"

"I'm in," she said, trying to grab her crutches.

"Hold on—I'll get them," he told her, moving carefully—he had to be careful with his IV—around the coffee table to her side of the couch, passing her the crutches.

"Thanks."

She smiled softly as she took them, maneuvering herself with impressive ease until she was standing, and nodded for him to follow her down the hall.

"See you in the morning?" she asked, when they finally reached their rooms.

"See you in the morning," he promised.

The doors shut behind them, and Fangs made his way to his bed, sitting down on the edge to try to figure out where he should leave his IV stand.

It took him a solid five minutes to figure it out, and he finally lay down in his bed. As his eyes drifted shut, he was surprised to hear a voice, which he could now recognize as being Harper, singing.

"_And everything else goes away… Everything else goes away… Everything else goes away."_

Thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I absolutely love Harper but she's been so hard to write! That said, if you're curious about her, feel free to visit me on tumblr Randomestfandoms-ocs and/or HarperHarrison

(and pinterest, for anyone curious, is randomestfandoms/my-demons-and-my-muse


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